Back to Basics
by Oltierra
Summary: A short story about how Kai decided that the Bladebreakers needed to follow Hilary's step-by-step guide to remaster their blades.


Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade

This is a short story that came to mind when I was trying to think of what my next fic should be about. I hope you like it! 

Back to Basics

It was a beautiful day and the sun was just about to dip below the city's horizon. The sky had turned to a deep, rich orange, spotted with the brightest of the stars. The light was magical and seemed to hang in the air like a curtain of silence, which had been drawn on the day.

People were drifting home, and the streets were getting quieter, but Kai had only just left the Granger Dojo. He liked this time of day, when the noise had lessened: less people around to point and stare, or to try to talk to you, or just to get in the way. He had to take advantage of this freedom as time to think. You could not think at the Granger Dojo: there was too much going on. Kai always had a headache after dinner, but today it had already gone. There was still the problem though.

He just walked, letting one foot fall in front of the other in a steady, calming beat on the concrete. The monotony guided him through the city, passed the open cafes and closed shops. He thought of nothing and felt nothing. He was an empty shell of a being, treading softy down the pavement towards the park. He had his hands in his pockets.

He sat at his usual bench, in a small clearing surrounded by trees yearning to touch the stars. There were no street lamps or electric lights to interfere with the view of the sky. The dusk and appearing stars were enough light to see by, but Kai did not mind the dark. He walks with his eyes closed.

It is here that he does his thinking. He lets it all go, each thought, each feeling, each memory, all tumbling over one another in a frantic whirlpool. All control is removed slowly, and all that he has repressed in his mind is set free. And you should see it fly!

His crimson cherry eyes open to embrace the sky, and his chin moves back so that he gazes into the heavens. The tension in his muscles fades away and he relaxes with a deep intake of gently fragranced air. He leans back into a slouch and exhales. The view of the night sky surrounds him as he begins to think.

The problem rolled around in his mind and various solutions manifested themselves, but all were dismissed one by one. The source of his dilemmas lay cold in his hand. A small, metal beyblade, twisting over and over as Kai moved it in his palm. He knew that beyblade as if it was an extension of his very being. He knew each edge, each curve and each part, where the base was wearing away from the relentless practice and that miniscule chip in the attack ring, from when he had lost control, and sent it crashing into a stone from the side of Grandpa Granger's pond. But none of this helped him. Not even that unique connection with Dranzer, the Phoenix spirit which inhabited the blade could solve this problem.

Eventually his mind wavered back to his first beyblade. The first time he had launched it, and the cat he had disturbed. He smiled a bit then. His father had been there, by his side, correcting him, encouraging him and picking up his blade when it missed the improvised tea-tray dish. He never once felt frustrated at his failure, when his father was there to keep him on his feet. Instead he had felt elated and overjoyed. A true, perfect happiness that came with the connection he made that day with his beyblade, and his father.

He enjoyed the practice the most: seeing the gradual improvements, that were small but nonetheless present. How to keep the path straight, how to turn, how to attack and defend. They had called him a genius once and a natural talent. But now he was just Kai. He could not find the answer that they all so desperately needed. As captain it was his duty to answer the questions that no mere computer could: to devise the strategies and to analyse the facts. But this problem was challenging his claim as captain. If one of the others found the answer first, what would he be? What would be his worth?

Doubt crept, unwanted into his thoughts, and his mind was cast back to when he first found Dranzer. Everything he knew about blading had changed. He had, had to relearn all he had ever known, and start again from the beginning. But he had done it. He had succeeded. How? And there was his answer!

This time a true smile graced his lips, and his eyes were alive with starlight. The sky was a deep midnight blue now, and the shadows played underneath the trees like children. He grasped his blade in his fist, sure of himself and confident once again.

He took a moment longer to examine the sky: to soak in the sight of the universe, and to allow its light to wash over him. It filled him with a deep joy that he had not felt in months. Not since he had turned away from Voltaire and into a newer, freer life. Oh he knew the answer now. Yes, he knew what to do. He could not wait to see the looks on their faces when he told them, or showed them the answer.

They had to go back to basics.

...

There we go! I hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


End file.
